On The Rocks

The Worcester Phoenix
June 2 - 9, 2000

[On The Rocks]

Garrison finish

How bad can the sound of your parents having sex be?

by John O'Neill
Not too long ago, Garrison appeared in clubland; and the show was a standard affair -- passionate, a little bit angsty, driven by hard turns and quick stops and lock steps and frantic flailing. For 45
minutes the band raced between the poles of structured, nuanced beauty and of going-for-broke anarchy. When the event blew across the finish line, mouths were hanging -- for a couple of reasons. Most, being post-hardcore grads who did time at the WAG and at the Space, were absolutely floored by the outfit's brilliance. Others had just witnessed the sorriest spectacle of ill-conceived crap they'd ever come across. A look at the Revelation Records' on-line message board tells a similar story. On the "you review it" page for Garrison's new single, "After the Fight," the adjectives "incredible," "amazing," and "love it" stand alongside lesser but no less potent descriptives like "sucks," "horrible," and "kill me."
Garrison are a band who generate a reaction.
"On Revelation, Gorilla Biscuits are the all-time top seller; and we aren't Gorilla Biscuits. I think kids resent that we aren't a youth-core band. But we've been at this long enough that we realize our own voice," says guitarist Ed McNamara. "Plus, I hear it's a good thing as long as you're evoking some kind of reaction. I don't want to be an okay band, I'd rather be an `exceptionally different' type of thing. I just wish people would realize there are people behind the music.
"`I'd rather hear my parents having sex'? repeats McNamara, recalling one message the band received. "It's hard not to take it personally."
But McNamara isn't letting the Web rants get him too down. He's just off a two-week hitch spent crossing the States; he has a month tour lined up in July, and then the band head to Europe in September. The band's first full-length album, A Mile in Cold Water, is out (the release party is this Saturday at Ralph's) on a label that's committed enough to press 10,000 two-song-sampler giveaways.
It would appear then, Garrison have the last laugh. Especially at the kids still punishing the group for In My Eyes' break up. Indeed, a label that's made its reputation (and money) in the one-dimensional hardcore kingdom has embraced the band as one of its hottest prospects.
"We're really psyched about Rev, they've been so supportive as far as getting promo stuff out and honestly being excited about [the new album]. I don't feel like it's them just pushing product. I feel like they believe in the record."
Recorded in Boston, with Kurt Ballou of Converge fame behind the board, the resulting A Mile not only picks up where the band's 1999 EP The Bend Before the Break left off, but also it stands as what will become Revelation Records most influential release since it signed the same-minded Texas Is the Reason. Right now people will try to lump Garrison into the whole emo/indie-rock school, but the sum of the band's parts shine all over the disc. You can make generalizations to jangle pop, cock rock, classic big-finish power rock, hardcore, as well as bunch of other roads they almost head down. But A Mile is actually one of the few things out today that pushes music in new directions. Tomorrow, it will be pointed to as a defining album for underground rock.
The disc is loaded with beautiful moments, just as it is weighed down by an inherent self-consciousness that comes from creating what is best described as a non-contextual concept album. Beginning with the cover art, a locked door (and the sly reference in the title to the distance between Alcatraz Island and San Francisco), Joe Grillo (the other half of the songwriting team) and McNamara explore themes of breaking out and overcoming through cyclical songs that examine personal relationships. Break-ups, going stagnant, repeating the same mistakes are all considered with the notion of a fresh start looming. Lofty stuff for sure, but the band pull it off with tense and urgent tunes. Garrison create an uncomfortable atmosphere -- almost like trying to reach up through the water toward the surface. (You can see the light but aren't sure if you can make it.) In non-analytical terms it goes more like this -- Garrison have created a minor classic. Soon they head out for their first substantial tour. When they come back sometime in October, CMJ, Spin, and the rest will be courting them as Who's New.
And a few years down the road when teenagers in small- town America are picking up their guitars to do the DIY thing, they will point to Garrison and A Mile in Cold Water as a major influence. The Revelation Web page will say nice things; and little old Worcester, Massachusetts, which once ran hot and cold on them, can lay claim to a band who were bona fide indie stars.
"We played lots of all-ages shows, and it turned out to be a really good tour. We didn't get huge crowds, but everywhere we went people knew who we were and that's pretty cool," muses McNamara of the band's soon-to-change status.
As for the meaning behind the masterpiece?
"It's kind of lofty and silly and abstract. We didn't want to hit people over the head, but it's just as much for other people as it is yourself, and some things we needed to say. I'd rather people [draw their own conclusions]. It's a vessel of escape, but at the same time it's just a fucking rock-and-roll album."